


Absol-ute Blessing

by Devious_Grayson, JeromeSankara (orphan_account)



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Accidental Knotting, Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, Angst with a Happy Ending, Breeding, Discovery, Domestic Fluff, Egg Laying, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Medical Experimentation, Near Death Experiences, Nudity, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Poaching, Pokemon Ranger - Freeform, Rick is a Ranger, Rickyl Writers' Group, Shifter, Slow Burn Daryl Dixon/Rick Grimes, Tags May Change, Torture, buttsmex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-07 09:12:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11055888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devious_Grayson/pseuds/Devious_Grayson, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/JeromeSankara
Summary: Daryl is caught in the middle of a battle for the most powerful weapon humanity has ever seen. He will either lend a hand in creation or be forced to destroy, but all he wants is freedom.Rick is a Pokemon Ranger wanting nothing more than to keep his region peaceful and safe, but stumbles into more than he could ever imagine when he comes across a half-dead naked man face down in the river.AKA: The Pokemon AU that no one asked for.





	1. Escape

Fingers drummed slowly across the guardrail that was the only barrier between him and his workers below. Tight lips were set into a frown as he watched them work around monitors and machines, some carrying strange liquids in a beaker and others with clipboards and charts. They were wasting too much time, they would be here any minute...!

Dark eyes flicked from person to person, and not one looked up to him. That simply would not be allowed.

All he had to do was loudly clear his throat before one looked up at him with wide eyes and a paling face. That one immediately nudged the next, who gulped and told the next, who immediately shouted of his arrival to the rest of the workers. It was only within moments that the mixture of lab-coated staff and familiar uniforms had finally been brought to attention beneath his balcony, all looking up at him with mixtures of emotion he didn't care to recognize.

"We do not have much time, I expect everything to be ready!" he barked out, and a few flinched under the tone of his voice. Perhaps they didn't know the extent to the situation... There had only been whispers beforehand, and none of them truly knew just what was happening. All he had told them was that they were to expect an extremely important item to arrive today that will assist with their experiments.

It may even be the lifeblood of their creation.

He had avoided speaking about it aloud for some time, not wanting the message to be spread. The scientists only knew some parts, the grunts the others, and his leading commanders didn't even know everything. They had no need to worry about the details or his plans.

When the people looked to each other in wary confusion, the leader let out a long sigh. "The gravity of the situation is extreme," he began, making sure that he brought their drifting attention back to him. He waited until he had every pair of eyes on him before finally releasing the guard rail and standing straight.

"Our efforts have been mediocre at best towards our goal. I had expected that when I had brought you this cornerstone of our organization that you would at least be able to do as I commanded! I ask for control and you give me excuses!" His voice harshened at the end a bit more than he expected, but he soon managed to control himself again.

"This weapon is on the brink of collapse and you have done nothing to solve for it. And so of course, I have had to do this myself." Because he always had to do everything himself. The grunts only did the heavy lifting, the scientists the data, but none of them bothered with real advancement. Perhaps he just needed to... inspire them.

His hand reached up to fix his suit coat, straightening it properly as he stared down to his workers with sharpened eyes. "I bring to you today the link between our species. Through genetic mutations, this being will provide the DNA we have been missing to complete our creation. I expect that you will not waste this gift I have bestowed to you."

There was no more that needed to be said. That was all they needed to know. Even as questions began to bubble up after a stagnant silence, he paid them no mind as he turned away from his grunts and stepped through the doorway out of their sight. He still needed to prepare everything... Payment, caretakers, guards...

Giovanni refused to have his time wasted by pathetic scientists who were creating the greatest weapon known to mankind.

* * *

"Sir, the shipment will be here any minute!"

"Open the north entrance. Closest to the testing chambers."

The order was curt as narrowed eyes stared out to the darkened night from his window, scanning across the work he had created. Years upon years of research had been driven into this project, and it was so close to completion... There were times that he had wondered if this would all be for nothing, that their efforts would result in failure once again.

But they were so close... They were just missing a few pieces of crutial genetic information to implant into their creation.

Only once he was sure that the grunt had left did he finally turn back to the still-open doorway. They needed to have the containment areas ready immediately. They could waste no time, not when it would increase the danger of it creating trouble. The equipment was worth a fortune, and they had enough incidents with their current project to warrent protecting such precious machines.

His steps echoed through silent halls as he approached his prize, being passed only by grunts that were readying the dock. They hadn't expected to be sent something so large, and it may have been best to give them proper warning, but it was unnecessary as long as he held complete control of the situation.

Only once he walked into the lab a few rooms away from his destination did he begin to slow. It was a near empty room, with nearly all of his workers preparing to accept the shipment. Monitors were beeping, fluid pumping through tubes and valves... They all were connected to the center of their organization, their promise for their organization to finally thrive again.

It was held within murky plasma, a few oxygen bubbles flowing within and bubbling to the top of the clear tube. He had walked past his creation many times, ever since it had been nothing more than a few clumps of cells. The progress had been staggering, but it was still not ready.

While their creation could sustain life by itself, it was not able to be completely controlled. It did not act as it should. It needed to gain the intelligence of a human, but remain a tool. It had to be brought that much closer to humanity to truly make the creature powerful.

His hand touched against the warmed glass, three inches thick. They learned from last time. Tubes and wires were connecting to the body floating within the fluid, and the eyes were closed. Asleep until they were ready. He had lost many men in attempting to recapture his creation, not when it had destroyed the original lab and all that was inside of it, then trying to control its power to experiment upon it again.

The body twitched now and then, as if the power was threatening to become undone at any moment. It was still extremely unstable, and had to remain under near constant surveillance. That was why he knew that this link would be exactly what they needed to bring their creation to stability and control...

But he soon abandoned it in the tube just as he had multiple times. He did not need to care for the details of what his men would need to do, only that he give them the tools they needed. All he could hope was that they would not waste what he gave them.

When he opened the door to the northern entrance, though, a chill began to ride up his spine. It was too quiet. His men were all there, but standing still and surrounding the open entrance. He could just make out the truck that was backed into the entrance, the door pulled open to deliver the cargo, but he couldn't understand to just why no one was doing _anything_.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Giovanni snarled, his brow furrowing as he soon was pushing his way through the crowd of grunts and scientists. Some moved away to give him a clear path, others simply were turned to stone and had to be pushed. It was pathetic and disrespectful and he would need to deal punishment later, but not until he saw his new resource.

He had heard much about the creature. Heard about its strength and power, the size, the cunning... All he needed to know was if it would live up to any of his expectation.

The crowd was thicker around the open entrance, and was harder to work through. The closer he got, the more stiff his workers were, and the deeper the silence. No one would answer him, which was enough to boil his blood. Yet the entire time, he could feel his stomach beginning to turn to ice, and dread pooling within him.

There was something wrong.

Had they damaged his resource? If they had dared to kill it, there would be more than hell to pay... But they could still use the body. They would work with what they had as long as they had _something_.

There was one final barrier of men that he broke through without a second thought, finally able to gaze upon the scene that everyone was transfixed into.

He only managed a few steps forward before he too fell still, his feet turning to stone. His breath caught in his chest and the dread turned to cold realization.

The truck was open, and sitting inside the large truck was a box. It was large and thick, with holes for air to leak into it, but that wasn't what he was looking at. Instead he stared at the steel walls of the box, and the gaping hole that had been _torn_  through one side.

Even through the darkness he could see the blood glistening on the edges of broken steel, shards still sticking out like barbed wire. There were droplets all across the bottom of the truck, along with lines of claws that cut into the steel sides of the truck. Only then did he finally see that the truck door was only open because the lock had been broken from the _inside_.

It had escaped.

Silence was deafening as he stared at the drops of blood still dripping down from where the lock had been broken, still wet, still warm. That could only mean that the beast was still close, injured, tired... and angry. Thirsty for the blood of those who trapped him.

"...Don't just stand there!" he finally managed to snap back into reality, turning to his men with a twisted and angry expression. The only thing he managed to do was keep his own sense of doom from being visible, knowing just what was waiting for them in the darkness would not be willing to give up without a fight. That didn't mean he wasn't willing to put others lives on he line for it.

"All of you, now! Find him!"

* * *

Blood spotted against bright green grass, clashing against the natural beauty of nature. Feet stumbled through the underbrush of the forest, trying their best to maintain some level of composure even as the world was falling apart around him.

All he could think of was that he had to get away. He had to go back.

He had to kill.

His breath was hot against the chill of the night, fogging as it was panted out in an exhausting rate. His head constantly twisted back behind him, straining to hear above the pounding of his own blood through his ears, only to whip his head back around and try again to run.

But then his legs would quiver and fail beneath him, leaving him scrambling against the brush. Was this how he was going to die? Cold, bleeding, hunted...

Claws scratched into the dirt in an attempt to pull himself back to his feet, but it always took longer and resulted in failure quicker. Was there a time where he would allow himself to give up? After fighting for so long, was he allowed to finally rest?

...No. He had to continue on. He refused to die bleeding on the ground, he will not fall. He will die standing if he had to, teeth bared and claws raised to fight to the last breath.

The sun will be starting to rise soon, and the cover of darkness will soon leave him exposed. He had to find shelter, or keep running.

He broke out into a sudden run, feet pounding against the dirt as he threw himself through the forest, even as his body screamed for him to stop. They will not take him back alive.

He never saw the signs, not able to read the printing; "Welcome to Senoia".


	2. Unknown Subject

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick's off to patrol again, but stumbles across more than a few mischievous bug Pokemon.

There was a new man in town. Middle-aged, quite handsome if Rick listened to his female coworkers. And some of his male coworkers. He didn't judge, but he wasn't interested either. While everyone was wooing over this stereotypical "tall, dark and mysterious" man, he was the only Ranger in Senoia town to focus on the pile of work they had.

Usually summers were the worse season for Rangers. Insect types crawled about everywhere, which scared people. There were huge hunts in the nearby woods, most of which were totally illegal. Rick and his colleagues thus had to verbalize the poachers, on top of manually regulating the Insect types' population.

He distinctly remembered having been stung by a Beedrill more than once, and it always hurt as much as one could imagine. Nothing comparable to being poisoned by an Ariados, but thankfully those were less common in the region.

Packing up his gear, the Ranger sighed. Two more months and then they would have to watch out for the pugnacious Fighting types whose love season coincided with the beginning of Fall. Too many hikers caught black eyes after having met a defeated Primeape. He loved his job, but there were simply too many imprudent people around pokemons.

His faithful Stetson screwed on his wild curls in a weak attempt to keep them from curling even more in the heat, the man walked in the direction of the stables. While most Kanto Rangers preferred to go by foot or bicycle, those from the nearby Georgia region were much faster on their mounts.

Shane was a big, broad Rapidash. Rick loved the way his flames threatened to burn the world down, only kept from doing so by the perspective of running with his Ranger. It was amazing to witness such a bound between a human and a pokemon without said pokemon having ever been captured at all.

The fiery beast was too magnificent for that, Rick had thought as he was about to throw a pokeball at him. He had been a young, careless wannabe trainer at the time, barely over 12. It had taken years to obtain the flaming pokemon's trust, a time during which the teenager had come home with numerous burns and teeth marks.

As he slid easily on Shane's back, petting his dazzling mane which now didn't sizzle his skin like slices of bacon, Rick thought it was all worth it. Quickly leaving the flat roads of Senoia for the jagged forest, the Ranger wondered if he should have asked someone to come with him.

Most poachers were not trainers, but Shane was the only pokemon he had with him. As strong as the Rapidash was, there was no way he'd win against a whole team of pokemons.

There were also strange rumors in the Ranger center hallways. One of their younger recruits claimed she had heard a friend of her father tell him that Susan Perkins, you know, the owner of the pokeshop had a neighbor who had seen a red Absol. Gibberish, he had immediately thought. Beth was a good Ranger, but also a naive one.

Then other people had started to talk about the red Absol, until it had become the local tourist trap. Within 2 days, all sorts of shady individuals had come to witness the rumored pokemon. As if Rick's job wasn't already overloaded in this heat, he now had to watch out for them, too.

After a few miles, he started to notice how restless Shane was. Keening, shaking his head as if trying to chase away something, his hooves dug deeper on the ground than usual. Knowing his partner maybe better than himself, the Ranger hushered him to come to a halt and listened.

Besides the usual forests sounds, broken by distant pokemon cries and buzzing Insect types, were soft but unmistakable whispers. Children made too much noise, braconners clicked with their unnecessary material, and trainers were a mix of the two. No, whoever they were, those people knew exactly what they were looking for.

Silently guiding his Rapidash to a safe hiding spot, Rick dismounted and slowly paced toward the muttered dispute. Dropping behind a large bush when he was close enough, he tried to make out what it was about.

"...sir, they can't fly, so there's no way its track could have disappeared unless someone has captured it!" said a woman's voice.

"If someone had captured it, they would have claimed it as loud as could be. It would be easier for us, actually. But Mr. G. said he had abilities like no pokemon ever had, to catch him is our test, to prove our worth to him," asserted a deep man's voice. He sounded poised, but the tone left nothing to the imagination regarding which consequences losing the pokemon (as Rick assumed) would have.

Curling a bit more on himself, the Ranger cursed his lack of allies at the moment. Thankfully, Shane was used to this so he stayed hidden. While not trained, not properly speaking, his loyalty to Rick was admirable. He promised the Rapidash would have his load of berries once they'd return to the Ranger center.

Eventually, the two people left. From what he had understood, the woman (Andrea, or something) was supposed to go back to the HQ. Which HQ, Rick had no idea but his instincts screamed that there was something massive behind this simple encounter.

That's when, raising up to go back to Shane's hiding spot, he slipped on the blood.

There wasn't much of it, but it still was noticeable. It was thickly coagulated from the heat, curious Weedles having already gathered around it, trying to taste the strange red liquid that may have been food. Shooing them away, he noticed a kind of pattern.

A quick, soundless whistle and Shane was trotting to meet up with him. Not appreciating having been left away from the action, the Rapidash gave a playful headbut to Rick's shoulder, then nuzzled it to show he wasn't being serious. Pokemon's understanding of human social behaviors had always astounded him.

Reaching for his walkie-talkie, the Ranger tried to report to anyone near him but apparently whoever was supposed to scout the closest area couldn't, or wouldn't answer. Maybe they had heard, but Rick had no idea.

"Good boy Shane," he cooed, petting the pokemon's muzzles. "I need you to do somethang for me, sprinter. Want ya to give the guys at the station a message from me, could you do that?"

While he explained the situation, he started to write his report on a piece of paper. The procedure wasn't unknown to them, but it always felt mandatory to give oral directives rather than just giving the pokemon the letter.

"Give it to Glenn, he'll handle it. Once you're done, meet me at the crossing of road 86 and 87," he instructed, still petting the Rapidash. Again, this was the usual procedure, so he knew everything will be done as ordered.

"Be safe," he added after a final rub between the ears. The Rapidash whinnied, because it loved to run free and fast, and practically flew back to the Ranger center.

Concentrating on the task at hand, Rick took a few samples and started to track. It was very subtle, if not for the occasional crimson drops. As the ground became more and more rugged, the drops became larger and Rick worried the pokemon may have been hurt beyond repair.

Of the many tasks that had become his when he joined the PokeRangers, putting down injuried pokemons was his least favorite. Most Rangers hated it, but he loathed it. Hoping he wouldn't have to perform that detestable task once again, Rick quickened his pace.

What he had absolutely not expected was to find a very naked, very injuried man, completely passed out in the river.

Shouting, the Ranger jumped as quick as he could without breaking an ankle down the ravine. Who knows how long the man had been there? What if it was too late? He didn't have the time to think about it. Tearing the man from icy waters, Rick laid him down on a big rock and started to check if he needed to perform CPR. He could feel a pulse, but he wasn't breathing.

From the large cuts on his flank, Rick deduced he had to extirpate himself out of a very small hole. A hiker caught in landslide? It was entirely possible. He didn't lose more precious seconds pondering what happened, and started to perform CPR.

Locking his shoulders, one hand on top of the other, he pushed and pushed for what seemed to be hours. He counted the pushes aloud, feeling large beads of sweat run down his face and neck. The ruthless sun was burning his exposed skin, but he would only stop when the man's heart started again. If it did. He preferred not to think of that.

When he was starting to feel very weary, the man finally coughed up a few mouthfuls of water and winced in pain. He weakly tried to get away from Rick, but the sum of his endeavours seemed too much for him to bear.

"Sir? Sir are you okay?" tentatively asked the Ranger, now concerned about the amount of blood and nudity displayed before his eyes. Hadn't he already been beet red from the heat and exertion, he would have blushed some more as he gave the man his vest in a small attempt to protect his intimate parts.

They were about the same age, but the man was broader than Rick. His fine features were obscured by a huge, purple bruise on his left cheekbone, and small cuts on his chin. This definitely wasn't the moment but -damn. He was absolutely gorgeous.

The way his tan skin shone in the sunlight, his confused eyes the exact same color as the shimmering river beside them, the insanely kissable lips he had... Shaking his head, Rick rather focused on his job. As handsome as he was, the stranger was also covered in nasty cuts and shivering like a leaf in the storm.

"Sir, I'm Ranger Grimes from the PokeRanger center of Senoia. I'll lead you to one of our lookouts, there I'll take care of your wounds and we'll call your relatives. Sounds good?"

"N-no. Don' call," growled the man, miserably.

"Okay, I won't call," he murmured in a voice he hoped was reassuring. Trying to extend a hand to help the man getting up, he almost had it bitten as the man retreated backward as fast as his injuried legs could bear him.

The man stumbled as he nearly slipped back into the river, hunching over and letting out a growl. His eyes had turned to slits, and he was trying his best to stand, only to slouch back into the bank of the river. It seemed clear that even as weak as he was, he would not trust a stranger, even one who meant well.

"I only want to help you, look I've got no pokemon with me," he said, pointing at his belt. "I won't attack you. You may recognize the crest on my hat, nobody but Georgia Rangers are allowed to wear it."

He was about to say that the stranger could trust him when the other man fainted once again, thankfully not in the water this time. As he was still breathing, Rick decided to carry him to the lookout instead. He was as heavy as expected, but the Ranger was no frail thing either.

Ignoring the naked skin pressed against him as much as he could, and god knows how hard it proved to be, the Ranger slowly climbed his way back to the lookout. A few seconds after arriving there, exhausted and drenched in a mixture of sweat and blood, he finally received a call from Glenn and debriefed him the situation, as he looked for the first aid kit.

The stranger had not woken up, but he seemed asleep now, rather than passed out. He didn't even wake up when Rick carefully stitched back his deepest cuts, nor when he disinfected them. When he was finally done, feeling so tired he might faint himself, Rick took time to look at him more closely.

There was no harm in looking, right? He was obviously checking for wounds he may have missed. Besides, with a cover pulled up his belly, he was decent now. Rick's heart may have missed a few beats, but that absolutely had nothing to do with the way the man curled on himself in his sleep, hugging the blanket tight.

The wounds he had closed had been dirty, and seemed to be at least a few days old. How he had not emptied himself of blood during that time was unknown. Some of the deepest had been around his shoulders, hips and waist, further adding to the idea of struggling out of a hole. His hands had been torn up, just as filthy if not more. There was the beginning of infection within several of the wounds, but he washed them out the best he could.

They were now bound tightly, which he worried would only frighten the man more, but he had next to no choice.

Only after he had checked each of the deepest wounds and bound the rest with bandages, having begun to run low on stitches from the first aid kit, did he finally work up the energy to move the larger man. Exhaustion pulled at his body as he managed to heave him up without disturbing him too much, eventually resting him in the single cot within the cabin. It wasn't meant to be lived in for a long period of time, but it may be a while until they find a way to return the man home.

From there, he finally allowed himself a long breath and pulled up a chair, setting it down beside the bed. There he would wait until either the man awoke or Glenn would arrive.

At some point before dusk, he wondered he should go back for Shane, who must have waited for him the whole afternoon. There was enough food in the lookout for them now, but without the Rapidash's help he wouldn't be able to go back in town if the sleeping man needed further medical aid.

Ignoring the worry in his chest that the man may run away before he came back, Rick wrote a note informing him of his whereabouts and assuring he wouldn't be gone more than two hours. In the note, he asked the man to stay in bed if he ever woke up. After leaving the letter, a bottle of water and some aspirin on the nightstand, Rick left the small cabin.

He hesitated a bit, wondering if he should lock it in his absence, but decided the man would only freak out if he did that. With a last, longing glance, he began the long walk back down the trail.


End file.
